


Slow Hand

by blcwriter



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 15:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4226886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blcwriter/pseuds/blcwriter





	Slow Hand

Comment porn for [today's very NSFW SWMOM](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/404597.html?view=14549365#t14549365) at [](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/profile)[**jim_and_bones**](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/).  (Pictures locked to members only).  Figures the first comment fic I write in forever is angsty.  And short, and only kinda filthy. 

\--

You were the one who was supposed to have the talented hands but still, it was nice not to be the one doing the work all the time... _"ah, goddamnit, yes,"_ Jim's fingers hooked onto your prostate just as he suck-swiped-did-that _"oh FUCK ME"_ thing with his tongue to the head of your cock and the little shit chuckled, did it again, well-lubed fingers on both hands holding your cock too fucking steady for too fucking long when you felt like you were coming apart, you were shaking because didn't Jim need to come up for air unless he had gills you didn't know about and then _sweet mother of GOD_ he swallowed you down to the root...

No way to resist. Not that you could. Wanted to. It was always like this.

It was only when you couldn't keep your eyes open, you were so fuck-stoned, after Jim had sucked every bit of tension out of your body, that Jim sank all the way in, pressed you back, filled you up, just kept arrowing right over that spot like a fucking metronome or a perpetual piston again and again and _"don't, don't ever,"_ you thought maybe you wheezed as Jim nosed the side of your face, was peppering kisses every time he bottomed out, his arms trembling minutely against the crooks of your knees, his sweat dripping and puddling on your chest and your belly, his own chest heaving every time his hips ground for those few seconds of always-fucking-perfect-pleasure into your ass-- that you managed to blink your eyes open, look at his face, the rictus of tension, the absence of all the pleasure you felt.

 _"C'mon, c'mon now,"_ you said, realized, hauling him in, bucked your hips up a few times while he was still buried, captured his mouth.

 _"C'mon, now, s'alright,"_ you said, squeezing around him, his eyes widening and going black with surprise-- mouth wide and silent with the shout he suppressed since that time you'd grumbled when he'd yelled in your ear.

 _"S'alright"_ , you slurred, his own release triggering yours-- though not the usual near-blackout Jim's ridiculous stamina usually drove you to.

It was alright-- you were both good with your hands, and you had all the time in the world.


End file.
